


A Blur

by Whizzer_going_down_to_Florida



Series: Falsettos One-shots [19]
Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 22:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17610434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whizzer_going_down_to_Florida/pseuds/Whizzer_going_down_to_Florida
Summary: Whizzer was officially moving in with Marvin, and he’s not sure whether or not he regrets it.





	A Blur

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #2 (Whizzer is officially moving in with Marvin, and he's not sure whether or not he regrets it) as suggested by Showtunes__play__in__the__background

Whizzer contemplated the last few months of his life as he moved the last of his clothes into Marvin’s closet. He couldn’t say that hey had gone by in a flash, far from it, but it did all seem like a blur. As if the memories had been smeared together. But if he focused, he could pick out the most prominent moments. Like the time Marvin showed up at his apartment to just say that he had left Trina before he immediately turned around and left. 

 

Or when Marvin asked him to move in with him.

 

Which was what led him here. He stared at what was now he and Marvin’s closet. One side was darker blues and reds, while the other was filled with bright greens and pinks. The two sides touched but never mixed, and always clashed.

 

“Fitting.” He thought. He closed the closet door and laughed to himself. “What am I doing?” Marvin was at work and Whizzer didn’t have any clients that day, so he was alone in the empty apartment, talking to himself. But someone needed to ask him that, and there was no one else that would.

 

But it was a question with no answer.

 

Saying that Marvin’s apartment was nicer than Whizzer’s was more than an understatement. It wasn’t a penthouse or anything, but it was much bigger than Whizzer’s dilapidated one-room, and he wasn’t constantly looking out for rats or worrying that the ceiling would collapse on top of him. It was heaven in two and a half rooms.

 

And sometimes it was hell.

 

Sometimes Marvin would come home already pissed and he’d search until he found something to yell about, and Whizzer would yell back, and then they’d have sex. It was a routine.

 

It was a blur. He and Marvin had been together for seven months now (“eight months.” He could almost hear Marvin bark.) and he still couldn’t explain why he accepted Marvin’s ‘moving in proposal.” But he didn’t necessarily regret it either.

 

It was comfortable, it was routine, it was what a man his age would want. But, routine made him anxious. It was like a ticking time bomb, he just sat there and waited for something to happen.

 

A ticking time bomb. That’s what dating Marvin was like.

 

He would wait for him to explode, clean up the shrapnel, and restart the clock. He only wondered what would happen when the shrapnel stuck in too deep, when pulling out would only cause more damage. That’s what dating Marvin was like.

 

Yet, his heat still skipped a beat when the doorbell rung.


End file.
